


Over the Mountains

by astrangebird



Series: Growing and Changing [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Flattery will get you everywhere, Gen, I wanted it to be more shippy but it just wasn't in the cards, M/M, Missing Scene, minor spoilers for episode 58
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 14:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18523762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangebird/pseuds/astrangebird
Summary: A missing scene in episode 58 involving Caleb's fresh shave.





	Over the Mountains

Caleb takes a moment to inspect himself in the mirror of the inn washroom. It has been quite some time since he has had a proper shave, even longer if he didn’t count that one miraculous shave with Yasha’s great sword in the swamp. This time his beard had grown too thick, and while Yasha is quite skilled with her sword it caught on the gnarled and matted patches and harsh angles of his jaw this time around, leaving him still bearded and unfortunately bleeding. To the best of his abilities Caleb has managed to stop up the small wounds and shear away months of dirty scruff without hurting himself further. Once satisfied with his work he’s left face to face with his own reflection. It’s been weeks since he’s been in front of a mirror and years since he’s actually taken the time to look at himself. 

His complexion doesn’t lend well to tanning but he has more freckles peppering his face than the last time he looked. His rusty copper hair is getting quite long, the shortest pieces of it long enough to be tucked behind his ears while some of it falls over his shoulders. The beard did help in making him look older, but there are dark bags under his eyes and deep creases to his brow that still betray his age despite his now smooth and pale jaw. He runs a hand over his newly hairless face and feels the scratch of his old dirty bandages dragging across his skin. 

Caleb looks away from the mirror and down to his hands. They have also been hiding from the sun for some time. He unwraps one arm and then the other and is left with a wad of bandages as old and matted in dirt as the remnants of his beard and his arms full of scars on display. Objectively he knows that they aren’t horrifying to look at, but seeing them is still startling, he can almost see what once was there between blinks, like a mirage. 

Caleb drags his focus back to the mirror, gives himself a hard look and squares his shoulders before tossing the wrappings away with the rest of his dirty disguise. He isn’t a wanted man on this side of the mountains, who is there to hide from anymore?

He marches out of the washroom to finish packing his bag, carefully wrapping the straight razor in a cloth before stowing it in one of his many coat pockets and rejoining the Nein. He’s immediately struck by the state that he finds his little green friend. Nott too has removed all her wrappings and excess layers, she’s even wearing a rather finely made dress. It suites her well. She smiles ear to ear with her razor sharp teeth when he joins her, rubbing at his jaw a little nervously as he gives her a small smile in return. Apparently the east is a much more friendly place for people like them, those who had felt the need to hide from the Empire and their ever present eyes.

He watches as Nott runs off towards the moorbounders when a large hand claps down on his shoulder. Startled he looks over to see Caduceus looming in close to him, circling around to look at him directly.

“Mister Caleb!” Caduceus’ normally rumbling voice is pitched up in surprise. The hand on his shoulder slides up to cup his cheek as its twin joins on the other side to feel the now smooth expanse of his face.

“Your face is so smooth! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your beard. You look so…” he seems to puzzle over the right word for a moment, tilting his head and eyes unfocusing. Caleb curls and flexes his fingers nervously at his sides, unsure of what to do with himself now that he’s being held in Caduceus’ gentle grasp. Caduceus’ thumbs seem to unconsciously brush back and forth over Caleb’s warming cheeks and send a little zing of unfamiliar sensation down his spine. 

“Boyish? I think that might be the word I was looking for. I’m not sure, maybe another word will come to me later.” Caduceus seems pleased with his assessment and gives Caleb one of his slow lopsided smiles as he gives his face a squeeze. There’s soft affection in his eyes, not too dissimilar to how Caleb looks at Frumpkin when he is being particularly adorable. It’s a little bit disarming to have that type of gaze directed at him.

“Oh ah, danke, Mister Clay.” Caleb manages to stammer out between slightly squished lips. He thinks that Caduceus gave him a compliment? It sounded nice, though most things that Caduceus says sound nice. He isn’t quite sure how to take being called “boyish” though. 

“Any time, you clean up nice.” Caduceus’ smile broadens and he gives Caleb a gentle pat to both his cheeks before pulling away. Caduceus’ eyes flit over his face for perhaps a second too long, the thumb of one hand dragging down over the cleft of his chin as he steps back, tilting his face away in a gesture that almost seems shy before walking towards his rather rambunctious moorbounder. That one definitely felt like a compliment. 

Caleb realizes that his whole body had been held taut like a bow string, nearly vibrating with the anxiety of such intense scrutiny from their groups most observant member. Most people avoid touching him entirely which is a great joy as he would prefer not being touched. But he had let Caduceus very gently cup his face between his long and boney hands as if he was examining the delicate bloom of a flower. He felt he could have pulled away and there likely wouldn’t have been much resistance. But he hadn’t, he didn’t feel the need to. There’s a strange sensation lingering on his skin that he just can’t place. He rubs the palms of his hands down over his face, almost missing the drag of his beard. Almost. 

Out of his peripheral Caleb sees Beau stop mid-stride toward the exit, turning to look at a rather shellshocked looking Caleb. She follows his glazed over eyes out the door to where Caduceus is tying down his supplies to the very excitable Clarabelle. 

“Hey,” Beau gently bumps her fist to Caleb’s shoulder, shaking him out of his thoughts, “You ok?”

“Ja ja ja I’m good,” Blinking rapidly he looks away from the doorway to Beau and her raised eyebrow.

Beau’s eyes squint a bit as she appraises him, eyes darting from him to the doorway again. Caleb braves another glance and sees Caduceus look their way before quickly looking back at Clarabelle, a soft smile on his face as he pushes a few loose strands of hair behind his ear.

“I’m good.” Caleb feels his face warming up again and hopes that Beau doesn’t notice as he gives her a tight lipped smile and pats her arm, adjusting his pack on his shoulders on his way out the door. Caleb smiles a bit to himself, patting the razor in his pocket feeling confident that shaving had been a good idea and wonders how far he can push his luck east of the Ashkeeper Peaks.


End file.
